


Visiting Hours

by Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me



Series: Destiel/ Cockles Shorts [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Castiel-centric, Guilt, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, Injured Dean, M/M, Nurses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 01:58:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3100835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me/pseuds/Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SPN Ficlet: Dean is injured and held up in the hospital. Cas blames himself so he wants to stay by the man's side as long as possible. The nurses however, need to enforce the visitation hours; but Castiel chooses not to listen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Visiting Hours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LunaStories](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaStories/gifts).



> This was a prompt given to me by the lovely LunaStories! I decided, since she has given me several lovely prompts (Including "Damn Angels"), I would make a series of the shorts I've written on tumblr. Enjoy!

      "Sir, I’m sure your friend knows that you care; but the other patients need rest, so you _have_ to go.”

      Castiel stares at the woman, wondering how anyone is supposed to take her seriously when she has cartoon birds all over her uniform.

      The nurse sighs, wondering if this guy should be admitted to the psych ward instead of being kicked out on the street. “ _Sir?_ ”

      "Yes, I heard you; but you don’t understand. Dean is my charge. It is my doing that he’s in here and under your care."

      The nurse softens a little. “Many friends and family feel that way, _believe me._ But you need to understand, there is _nothing_ you could have done. People just get sick, and even hurt sometimes. It’s not your fault.”

      Castiel rolls his eyes and turns away from the woman. _She obviously doesn’t understand. If he hadn’t helped that other angel, who was fine, for all intents and purposes, that demon wouldn’t have got to Dean. He wouldn’t have thrown the man across the room. Dean’s head wouldn’t have smacked into that pipe so hard, that it dented. No, she doesn’t understand because she doesn’t know that Dean had just saved humanity yet again … why the Winchesters insist on lying about how they really obtain their injuries, he’ll never know. All humans might be better off if they only were aware of God’s other, seething creations. But Dean says they wouldn’t be able to handle it._

      Castiel winds his way through the hospital, finally pushing out the front doors.

_He supposes he’ll listen to the man. He, after all, knows the limits of humans better than anyone._

_***_

      "I’m so sorry, Dean." Castiel stands rigid next to the hospital bed, looking at his charge, mummified in bandages. "If I were stronger, if I weren’t so foolish, I could just heal you with my touch." The angel stretches out his fingers and presses them on the back of Dean’s, limp hand. "You wouldn’t be struggling now if it weren’t for me." Castiel is only met with the haggard sounds of Dean’s breath. He sighs, finally pulling up the chair from the corner. As he sits, he looks over his unconscious friend; his eyes are drooping and tired, but he keeps them steady on Dean. Once again, he tries placing his fingers on the man’s hand, hoping that his fading, stolen grace might do one last bit of good. He waits … nothing happens. He waits longer, but still the man sleeps. Castiel huffs, scooting his chair in closer and tightening his hold on Dean’s skin. _He’ll wait as long as it takes._

***

      "Is it the same guy?"

      "Yeah."

      The nurses stare from their station over to room thirty two, watching as the strange, trench-coated man holds tightly to his friend’s hand.

      "I told him to leave three times today, but he just keeps sneaking back in or something."

      The other nurse grimaces, not liking when the visitation rules are broken. “We should call security then.”

      Her coworker shakes her head and smiles, looking down for a moment to smooth out the Tweety Bird scrubs she had gotten for Christmas. “No, he seems harmless. Plus, _look at him_ … he obviously loves the guy. Let him be.”


End file.
